𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝘼 𝙁𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙆

26

𝑻𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑫𝑨𝒀
˚ · • . ° .

"Iz!"

"Iz, wake up!"

The raspy voice continues to ring through my ears and I feel a hand on my back, gently rubbing it, trying to wake me up.

I let out a groan, but I don't move.

"Wheeler, come on!" Eddie whispers, and that's when I finally start to shuffle.

Whenever I move, I feel the skin beneath me, and I realize part of me is completely on top of him. To be more specific, my entire upper body is sprawled across his chest.

I stir around, flipping my head to face the other way, which is right in front of Eddie's face.

Im met with his eyes, and his eyebrows raise in surprise at my motion.

He begins to tell me to wake up once again, but I close my eyes and quickly cut him off.

"Shut up and go to sleep." I mumble into my hand, which is under my head, and placed on top of Eddie's skin.

"That's the thing," he explains, "I can't sleep."

"Why not?" I murmur.

"I dunno," he answers, "I've been laying here for hours, letting you sleep." He quickly adds on, "On me that is."

"Yeah, well, I'm enjoying my sleep, so.." I say, completely ignoring the last part that he said.

"Please." he begs, rubbing his hand along my back once more.

"What are you? Nocturnal?" I sigh, reluctantly pushing myself up to where I'm sitting back on my knees.

My body feels like it's still asleep, refusing to move, and my joints don't want to bend. I can feel pieces of my hair sticking out, looking very unnatural.

He gives me an innocent, fake smile, "Morning."

I ignore him as I yawn, standing up and walking over to my door.

When I don't hear his footsteps behind me, I look over my shoulder, motioning for him to follow me.

He jumps up at the realization, and begins to follow me as I open the door and walk down the stairs.

I lead us to the kitchen, and begin pulling open cabinets, searching for anything to eat.

"What are you doing?" I hear Eddie's voice close behind me.

"You said you couldn't sleep," I say, grabbing a can of ravioli, "so I'm guessing you're hungry."

I turn around, throwing the jar at him, which he fumbles with before finally grasping it.

˚ · • . ° .

I smell the scent of the red pasta sauce boiling next to me.

Eddie's rambling on about something that I don't understand, and my ears are drowning him out.

To be honest, I haven't been paying attention, instead my attention has been kept on the pasta.

Speaking of which, the meal was now almost boiling over the edge of the pot.

"Hey," I calmly interrupt him, keeping my eyes on the food, "I think you might want to stir your pasta."

At this, Eddie starts to rummage around through drawers, searching for the spoon he so desperately needed.

"You've been to my house enough to know where the spoons are kept." I say as I watch him.